Some Prayers
by equine02
Summary: The bravest prayers are the ones that are prayed, in only raw hope, without the expectation that they might ever be answered.


**So… I don't know if Moffit's mother died, or if he had a sister, or a bad relationship with his dad, but here's my take on it-** **enjoy, and drop me a review if you did! This is an alternate meeting of Tully and Moffit…** **it's actually a flashback, and then there's some other stuff….so the other one didn't happen, got that? Just an idea I had. I hope to update "Dance With me" sometime this week, so keep a look out, and please review, or I might do something terrible…. Like misplace Tully in the desert in my next fic, all alone…. You wouldn't want that, would you? (Oops, maybe you would! I know you exist, whup-lovers. I am one of you :)**

 **Oh, and you really have to picture the characters in their voices for this fic, or you won't get the full effect.**

 **Also, thank you, all of my dear supporters, who cheer me on and inspire me every day. You don't know how much this means to me, but I am so thrilled at every review, fav, follow- you must be angels! Thanks, guys! (BTW, I** ** _do_** **take prompts, and will most likely write them if you ask me to! Just nothing terribly long. I'll do it for Combat and RP:)**

 **Declaimer: Not a single one belongs to me. I'm all alone in this world.**

The bravest prayers are the ones that are prayed, in only raw hope, without the expectation that they might ever be answered.

-anonymous

* * *

Sometimes I would look at my life and think, _Good God, that's mine?_

Years and years of work had propelled me into a trance of thinking that whatever it is I needed I would have to work- and work hard- to achieve, only one day to find it may not be possible. Perhaps joining the Patrol has changed that.

Three months ago, I didn't believe in much. Not religiously, anyhow. Seeing my life as a mirror which reflected me in opposite, I had trudged against the current of unending tribulations. My Mother died when I was eight, and my sister never truly got over it… after that my father put attention into his work as no man should, ignoring his family, his youngest son, who was but two. I took care of him, and played with him, sometimes at the cost of my own dignity. I remember my chums always saying I was no fun, or that I had no sense, playing house. But there was nothing I could do to make my father see what I saw.

Years later, when I left for Africa, this time for purposes other than to study with him, my father didn't come to the train platform to wish me goodbye. I sat alone, in the back of the coach, till some private with sandy hair and soft, brown eyes sat down across from me. Deciding not to pity myself, I stuck out my hand to him.

"Moffit, Jack Moffit. Sergeant."

"Tully Pettigrew. Private." He gave a soft smile that lit up his eyes. His accent was strange to my ears.

"Where are you from, Pettigrew?"

"You can call me Tully. I'm from Kentucky." He looked proud about it. "I was on the front lines, in France, but I got it pretty bad in the shoulder, so I was reassigned after a few weeks of R and R."

"Oh? Where are, you bound?"

"South Africa, actually. Quite a-ways from Kentucky. And France."

"Indeed. I'm on my way there also. "

"Are you?" Tully reclined, "Good to know the continent will have a friend somewhere on it, Sarge."

I smiled. "Yes. I used to go there with my father, to study the…. Well you probably wouldn't-"

"Oh, don't do _that_!" Tully scrunched up his face suddenly, still managing to speak in a quiet way, "C'mon, Moffitt, what's with the pity party?" He grinned, all in jest.

Naturally, I was rather startled. I hadn't taken this man, Tully, as the joking sort.

"-In fact, we should all be having pity parties, after all, we are sorta shipping off to our deaths, you know. Anyway, I didn't figure you to be the condescending type." He winked.

"Condescending? How do you mean?"

Tully waved it off like one might a fruit fly. "Ahh, never mind."

This private puzzled me greatly, but I didn't want to bother him, as he was seeming to settle down into a sleeping position, cap pulled over his eyes.

 _What an odd man._ I'd thought.

* * *

Right now I can only think, _what a brave man_.

He lays here, shot and bleeding. He thinks he's alone in his delirium.

 _God, I don't know if you're up there… I don't know much of anything anymore. But if you are, please… please….._

I'd never believed in God. Why was there war? Death?

But then, on the other hand, why was there peace? And friends, those who would even be willing to die for each other?

I didn't believe _He_ would answer my prayer.

Tully, the man who I'd met on my way to the greatest adventure in my life, was dying in my arms now, and I still couldn't find room for Providence. No, I figured God must be busy… too busy to touch the life of Tully Pettigrew and give him back the color he'd lost, the energy. The quips, and jests. Everything that made him _Tully_.

That made him my _friend_.

I soon fell asleep to this thought.

The sun glared down at me and my driver. It was angry, glowing like some kind of branding iron in the sky. "God." I whispered, "Thanks for trying." I felt the words but didn't say them. After all, I couldn't blame God- if there was one- he was probably busy saving more important lives. Though right now, there was not a single one, not even my own, was more important than this one. But Tully lay far too still in my arms to hold any life now. _My_ fight was ended prematurely.

And so was Tully's, though his would be forever.

* * *

I didn't realize that Hitch was shaking my arm, or that I was terribly cold, clutching Tully to my chest, as I blinked my eyes open. I'd been sitting there against the fender of the jeep that the sand was bullet-hard where I rested.

Troy was kneeling beside me.

"Moffit?"

I glanced around. The sky was dimming, and a chill had settled over the desert. You could hear the sounds of small things scuttling around if you listened, and it caused shivers to travel up my spine.

"Is Tully okay?" realization hit me, and I dropped my gaze, "…..I'm sorry…. Troy, he's-"

Hitch was ripping open the other man's shirt, not pausing to unbutton it. "He's alive."

Troy rocked back on his heels, amazed. "Moffit, how did you do it?"

"I don't-" suddenly there were arms, more of them, as medic and several other soldiers rushed over, pushing an indignant Hitch out of the way. Tully was carried into an ambulance, leaving the rest of the rats and I sitting. "Who are…." I glanced around in confusion. Hitch gave me some water from his canteen, for which I could not me more grateful for. "I thought that…. Only, you-" Troy put a hand on my shoulder.

"Moffit. You've been out here for _two_ days, and a night. It's a miracle that you're alive."

"Miracle…" I repeated slowly, gazing up at the sky. Hitch and Troy helped me stand, and we began to walk over to the jeeps.

I don't know much about life. Or war, really. I'm only a speck of sand in the desert. And I don't know much about God.

But I guess some prayers are answered.

 **Ta da! This one is especially for Tullyfan, who wanted me to post something new! Hope you liked it, I wasn't extremely pleased with it.**

 **I** ** _am_** **a Christian, and believe that there is a God, one who loves us and calls us His own, however, I don't feel that Moffit or really any of the Rats had a specific religion, so here's my take on it. This is my First AU, so, yeah… hope I did well. Thanks for reading, drop me a review, it would really help speed up my posting, you know…**

 **Till then, Au Revoir!**


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